31 January 2016

Books Completed Since January 1

book icon  Christmas in the American Southwest

book icon  The Carols of Christmas, The Oxford Book of Christmas Poems, The House Without a Christmas Tree, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

book icon  Reminisce Christmas

book icon  The Humbug Murders

book icon  The Family Way, Rhys Bowen
In this twelfth of the Molly Murphy mysteries, she and her husband Daniel Sullivan, a New York City police officer, are expecting their first child in less than three months. Independent Molly, who once ran her own detective agency, is bored silly making little clothes for the expected child and wilting during a hot NYC summer, but is reluctant to stay at Daniel's mother's country house since she feels the woman disapproves of her. When she goes out to mail a letter, she receives one addressed to her old detective agency about an Irish girl who came to the States and disappeared. A little while later, while talking with an old friend, shouts are heard in the street. A baby has been kidnapped from its carriage. If this wasn't enough, she runs into her brother Liam, now on the run from government agents.

Daniel doesn't want Molly following her old pursuits anymore, but the independent woman does so anyway, looking into the disappearance of the Irish girl and inadvertently becoming involved in the kidnapping case, all the while worrying about her brother, who supports the Irish Republican cause. There are some really odd coincidences in the story—which Daniel comments about in disbelief at the end, which helps!—and Molly, as always, overestimates her power to extricate herself from a situation and once again almost comes to grief over it.

This was a good read with the various plotlines woven together very neatly (except for those coincidences, of course) and I love when Molly's "Bohemian" friends Sid and Gus are involved with the story; in this one they actually help her sleuth. Several conventions of the era which are notable appear in the plot: the sending of unmarried pregnant girls to live in a convent (and an American version of "baby farming") until they gave birth and the common habit of sending unattractive daughters into the religious life since no one would want to marry them. I thoroughly enjoyed this installment of the series.

book icon  Better Than Before, Gretchen Rubin
Rubin, who has written previously about improving your personal happiness and the happiness of your household, now talks about developing positive habits to improve your life. As always, Rubin states that what habits work for her will not work for other people, since we are all individuals. Based on that, she asks you to define your own personality as one of four types: Upholder, Questioner, Obliger, and Rebel. Once you have classified yourself, you can begin addressing how to form new habits based on personality type. Some people, for example, may choose to give up sweets altogether, since they cannot trust themselves around sweets, while others can restrict themselves to only a few a week without falling back into bad habits. Obligers, who often sacrifice their happiness for that of others, form habits differently than Rebels, who instinctively fight against any rules at all.

There is a quiz at the back of the book so you may classify yourself and Rubin even sells a workbook. I thought it was a unique approach to habit-changing as opposed to other books which tell you you definitely must abstain, or follow rigid procedure to change a bad habit into a better one. Happiness Project is still my favorite of her books, but I thought her habits process showed some alternative thinking.

book icon  Crucible: All-New Tales of Valdemar, edited by Mercedes Lackey
This is a pretty enjoyable collection of short stories in Lackey's Valdemar universe. I found fewer of what I think of as "unfinished stories," ones that are more vignettes than actual short stories. Right off I was charmed by the story of the partnership between one of the little lizard hertasi of the Vales and a blind gryphon who help a change-child, although I wish it had been much longer, followed by a tense story about an innkeeper using a Gift in an evil way. There are also further stories featuring Lady Cerantha, Herald Will and his daughter Ivy, Healer Kade and Nwah the kyree, and the Haven Guards. Other stories feature not only Heralds, but Bards and Healers, and of course the fabulous Companions, one who chooses an elderly woman who resented her daughter being chosen, another who will die if her Chosen does not escape a fantasy world. The final story, written by Mercedes Lackey, involves a canny Healer kidnapped by a band of renegades. All in all, a satisfactory read.

book icon  The Fairy Tale Girl, Susan Branch
This is the first volume in Branch's two-volume autobiography, crammed with vintage family photographs, diary excerpts, journal scribblings, quotations, maps, Susan's hand-lettered text, and of course her exquisite watercolors. It's simply a gorgeous volume just to look at. The book opens with her best friend putting her on a plane for Boston where she heads to the place she lives today, Martha's Vineyard, after her divorce, and then takes us on a flashback through time. She tells of her happy childhood as one of eight children in 1950s California, then moving out on her own with her best friend Diana in the 1960s, learning to cook from Julia Child's cookbook and discovering how much she loved cooking and baking, and then meeting her first love, Cliff Branch, owner of a music store. It is Cliff who encourages her early artistic efforts, but it's also Cliff who eventually breaks her heart by taking up with other women.

The book is like a wonderful scrapbook of Branch's life. If you are a Susan Branch fan, you will enjoy her memories, both happy and sad. The photographs of the past, the story of her 1960s lifestyle in California, the heartbreak of her split with Cliff were all quite absorbing. (Frankly, I wanted to slap Cliff silly several times, although I understand he and Branch are still friends.) I have to say, as much as I enjoyed this one, I'm looking forward more to the Martha's Vineyard volume, though, since it takes place close to my home town.

book icon  Gone West, Carola Dunn
Investigating a crime is the furthest thing from Daisy Dalrymple Fletcher's mind when she gets together with her old schoolmate Sybil Sutherby. Sybil has been acting as a typist and editor for the novelist Humphrey Birtwhistle, who has kept the old family estate going by writing romances of the Old West, having lived there as a young man and brought his American wife back home with him. Sybil confides to Daisy that she thinks someone is drugging her employer to keep him under the weather, since when Sybil took over writing the books from Humphrey's outlines they have been making a great deal more money. So under the guise of visiting Sybil, Daisy once again gets herself involved in a mystery—as Birtwhistle dies not soon after she meets the rest of his not-always-lovely family.

Once again Daisy must try to sort out who might want to kill the victim: perhaps it's the man's younger brother or sister, who worked the estate hard most of their lives only to have him come home and claim it; or the flibbertigibbet niece with no money of her own or her two suitors, a straitlaced type or an Irish poet; it might even be his American wife. Even Sybil and her beau, the estate's physician, are not free of suspicion—and of course Daisy must cooperate when her husband DI Fletcher and his associates Tom Tring and Ernie Piper are called onto the case. A nice atmospheric country house mystery with a couple of twists.

book icon  The Smithsonian's History of America in 101 Objects, Richard Kurin
In an American response to the seminal BBC production The History of the World in 100 Objects, this is a lush volume that covers the pre-Columbian (Burgess shale points) all the way to the present (the man-made Giant Magellan Telescope) and just a bit of everything in between: Pocahontas' authentic portrait (all of them), Thomas Jefferson's Bible (which he disassembled and rearranged), Abraham Lincoln's beaver hat, gold from Sutter's fort and furniture from Appamattox, the Wright flyer and an authentic Eisenhower jacket, the Salk vaccine and the AIDS quilt. It's a giant candy box of historical choices, illustrated in color, and a nice overview of American history which tries to be inclusive of other points of view besides the usual historical narrative. The only minus of this volume is its price, but if you're a history buff, a nice used or remainder copy will do. Plus, if you dislike it, it can be used as a burglar basher. At 760 pages of heavyweight paper, it would make a nice leaf press, too. ☺

book icon  The Laws of Murder, Charles Finch
Charles Lenox and his four colleagues, including his protege Jack Dallington, have now formed their investigative agency and are hoping for consultation work from the police. Except, to Lenox's astonishment, his good friend at Scotland Yard, Inspector Thomas Jenkins, badmouths him and his agency to the press. Yet when Inspector Jenkins is murdered, he clearly leaves clues that Lenox recognizes, but cannot quite put together because they have been compromised. Lenox is also certain that one of his old nemises, the Marquess of Wakefield, is involved in the mystery—only to discover the peer also dead. But as distrust of Lenox spreads after the newspaper reports, he finds his new agency may no longer want him as one of the partners.

A ship of smuggled items, a convent on an otherwise busy street, the scandalous Wakefield who meets his doom in a most mysterious way, and a charming young Frenchman figure in this latest Lenox mystery in paperback. I'm so glad Lenox has dropped the Parliamentary seat; his part-time sleuthing wasn't really interesting, even if it allowed Jack Dallington to blossom as a detective and his old butler Graham to fill his place and use his unique skills. Needless to say, with a lascivious lord, murder, and smuggling, there are further revelations of the seamy underside of London. Sadly, Lady Jane doesn't have a lot to do in the story.

book icon  Never Turn Your Back on an Angus Cow, Dr. Jan Pol/David Fisher
This is the story of Jan Pol, the Michigan veterinarian whose cases are shown on the National Geographic Wild channel's The Incredible Dr. Pol. Pol was born in the Netherlands and was helping with animals at an early age. His family endured Nazi rule during World War II and later he studies in Michigan where he meets his wife Diane, charmed by the fact that she plays tag with a pet duck, and you learn about his early mentors.

The remainder of the book is about memorable animal patients or why/how he uses a certain treatment, very like the television series. I only watch the series occasionally, so most of the stories weren't familiar to me. Plus he talks about how the television series came about.

Pol's co-writer tries to write as his subject talks, so the narrative is rather cut-and-dried. Those looking for the poetic feel of James Herriott about the landscape and the people will be disappointed. But there are a wide variety of cases covered, from horses to cows to dogs and cats, and it's enjoyable enough. Plus there's a center section of photographs, where you can see what Pol looked like as a younger man.

book icon  A Pattern of Lies, Charles Todd
In England after escorting a group of wounded soldiers from the front, Great War battlefield nurse Bess Crawford is looking forward to a few days' leave with her family. Unfortunately she cannot get a train and there are no places to stay, until she meets an old patient of hers, Major Mark Ashton, who is home on leave until his hearing problem from concussion resolves. He invites her to his home for the night, where Bess discovers the family is being systematically harassed about a devastating accident that happened at the family munitions plant two years earlier. Although the explosion was determined to be an accident, out of nowhere accusations are resurfacing that the family was behind the deaths. Bess likes the family immediately and soon is determined to get to the bottom of the accusations, especially after Mark's father is arrested.

I found this an interesting and absorbing novel in the Bess Crawford series. Probably I should have guessed the identity of the culprit earlier, but I was too busy enjoying Bess' relationship with the Ashtons and her efforts to solve the mystery of the sabotaged factory. I found that Bess' transport back and forth to the front and Britain made sense in her duties as a nursing sister. It does seem a bit unusual that her Australian soldier friend can keep popping up when she needs him, but I guess that's no less unlikely than a nursing sister getting involved with murder mysteries in the first place. I like Bess; she's capable and doesn't need a man to help her make the conclusions she comes to, for all that Simon Brandon does pop up once again just in time.

book icon  Melody Ellison: No Ordinary Sound, Denise Lewis Patrick
After reading the less-than-inspiring Maryellen books, I was worried about this newest series of American Girl novel, which features an African-American family in Detroit in 1963.

This is more like it! Melody and her family seem very real; the family dynamics are wonderful (there's a warm atmosphere that I love, especially between Melody and her sisters), and every family member has a role, unlike Maryellen's very superficial father. There are occasional "info dumps" for the modern child about the early 1960s attitude toward people of color, but they aren't too intrusive. This is what I was expecting from the Maryellen story, something that would make a 1950s Florida girl come alive, not a dumb kid painting the front door red.

The story: Melody and her family live in Detroit. Her father works on an auto assembly line, her grandfather is a florist whom she helps occasionally (Melody loves to garden), and her grandmother teaches music. Melody has been asked to sing a solo at her church in the fall and must make the important decision of which song to sing over the summer. In the meantime, her older brother is trying to break into the Motown scene, and her cousin from Alabama is moving to Detroit with her family because of racial conditions in Alabama.

I loved that the book addressed not only overt bigotry (when her cousins try to buy a house, they are told the house isn't available—although it is available to whites; when her sister tries to get a summer job at a bank, she are told there are no more jobs, although the bank manager tells a white girl positions are still open), but more subtle things: Melody and brother Dwayne go looking for new clothes in a department store and are promptly accused of shoplifting for just looking at things; Melody's cousin Val is surprised that black people can walk into the front door of the library in Detroit.

I can't wait until the second volume is out, but now I really resent that Mattel has gone cheap on the books. I would have loved to have illustrated volumes of Melody's story. I would have loved three illustrated "Inside Melody's World" features in three books instead of a measly two pages: info about the faces of bigotry, the events in Birmingham, behind the scenes at Motown, the story of "Lift Every Voice and Sing." The new "Beforever" line is a cheat.

book icon  Dear America: Land of the Buffalo Bones, Marion Dane Bauer
This is labeled "special edition" and I don't know why unless it is the first "Dear America" book I've read that is based on an actual family. The young lady who is the protagonist was the great-grandaunt of the author and she derived the story in this novel from the memories of older relatives who remembered "Polly."

Mary Ann Elizabeth Rodgers accompanies her siblings, half-siblings, father and stepmother to the United States, where her minister father has arranged for them to found an English colony in 1873 Minnesota. He has come home with tales of green and verdant fields and the members of his Baptist congregation, unwelcome by the Church of England, are eager to come. Tragedy strikes early: the small brother of Polly's best friend Jane dies on the ship during the Atlantic voyage. When they arrive at their new home, there is no infant town as they were promised and it is snowing heavily on Easter Sunday. This is only the beginning of their trials.

This is a excellent primer to the pioneer experience, but be aware that very sensitive children may find this one chilling. It is not a happy experience for the Rodgers family. The story begins with the death of little Timmy and other deaths occur, and something else upsetting happens near the end. Keep in mind that the events that happen are nothing different than what you might read in the "Little House" books, but they are different than the experiences of most children today. Some parents may be dismayed that the godly Reverend Rodgers is not the steadfast leader he needs to be (he reminds me somewhat of Bronson Alcott) to survive in the Minnesota wilderness, but he is typical of many of the people who went west with misconceptions and believed promoters' tales of the area. I was particularly impressed by how Polly's stepmother learned to cope with the situation and how Polly's perception of her changed from the beginning of the book when she was a despised stepmother.

book icon  The Annotated Little Women, Louisa May Alcott with annotations by John Matteson
Yes, I have yet another annotated version of this classic. I read so much about this volume on a blog that I wanted it, and James obliged for Christmas (thanks to a wonderful Barnes & Noble before-Christmas sale). Matteson, an Alcott scholar, received permission to use photos of items from Alcott's "Orchard House, including personal items like Anna Alcott Pratt's (the original of "Meg") wedding dress, the newly-discovered New Testament belonging to Lizzie (the original of "Beth"), books published by May Alcott Nieriker, and never-before-seen family photographs.

In this volume Matteson uses Alcott's original text for Little Women, only briefly mentioning the revision that her publishers requested when the two parts of the text were put together to make the one book we know today, to correct the slang that the girls and Laurie use (it was considered detrimental to the readers of the 19th century!). Instead he talks more about the different "sections" of the first part. Initially Alcott wrote only the first twelve chapters, which are episodic scenes in the lives of the girls, unsure that anyone would want to read "dull" stuff; her publisher agreed, but his niece loved the story so much that Alcott continued, with the next chapters providing a more cohesive whole to the story. Also, the story was originally supposed to end when Mr. March came home at Christmas, the story running one year from one Christmas to the next. It was Alcott's publisher who asked that she write "Aunt March Settles the Question," which suggests a future (i.e. a sequel) might be in order for these characters. I knew Alcott didn't think much of the book until her publisher's niece said she loved it—she basically wrote her children's books and stories to make money—but I had no idea of the actual "construction" of the book until now.

I'm hard pressed to tell you which volume is "better." I liked this one for its biography of Alcott and the importance of Lizzie Alcott and May Alcott Nieriker to what happened to Louisa in later life; also the new photographs (since when you visit Orchard House they don't allow you to take photos). But the other book by Daniel Shealy was good, too. If you're an Alcott fan, you'll want both, so check the used book stores!

book icon  The Lost Art of Reading Nature's Signs, Tristan Gooley
I don't hike (I'd like to, but not in the tropics, thankyouverymuch), I don't camp, and I sure don't want to eat some of the things author Gooley did during a hike in Borneo. On the other hand, this is a fascinating book about the nature signs that our ancestors used to survive, whether as hunters or farmers before the advent of the Weather Bureau or explorer. Gooley covers all types of signs, from in which direction plants grow and which plants grow near settled areas and which prefer wild spaces, which animals you may see on your hikes (not just the native creatures of an area, but which animals will come out in the daytime and which at night, which prefer wet places, which prefer dry), weather signs, determining your direction by charting the stars (he goes way beyond finding Polaris by using the two stars on the cup of the Big Dipper), seeing things differently when you hike at night and finding your way in the dark via temperature, animal sounds, etc.

It makes you a bit wistful for all the ancient knowledge we have lost. If I lived out in the country I would definitely try learning one of more of these techniques.

31 December 2015

A Baker's Dozen of Favorite Books of 2015

Yeah, yeah, I shouldn't even be posting this since I didn't finish my November reviews until after Christmas. I thought I'd do that in the past two weeks! But here it is anyway. If you're looking for the December books, they're all reviewed in Holiday Harbour.

book icon  How to Be a Victorian, Ruth Goodman (Barnes & Noble purchase)

book icon  If Walls Could Talk, Lucy Worsley (Barnes & Noble purchase)

book icon  Pioneer Girl: the Annotated Autobiography, Laura Ingalls Wilder, edited by Pamela Smith Hill (Books-a-Million purchase, since everyone else was out)

book icon  Code Name Verity, Elizabeth Wein (Amazon purchase)

book icon  A Brief Guide to The Sound of Music, Paul Simpson (Books-a-Million purchase)

book icon  Bluegrass Champion (Harlequin Hullabaloo), Dorothy Lyons (library booksale)

book icon  The Best of Connie Willis, Connie Willis (Amazon purchase)

book icon  The Penderwicks in Spring, Jeanne Birdsall (Amazon purchase)

book icon  The Great Detective, Zach Dundas (Barnes & Noble purchase)

book icon  Eighty Odd Years in Hollywood, John Meredyth Lucas (Amazon Marketplace purchase)

book icon  The Oregon Trail, Rinker Buck (Barnes & Noble purchase)

book icon Doctor Who's Greatest Hits, R. Alan Siler (directly from Alan, at Dragoncon!)

book icon  One Man's Meat, E.B. White (Amazon Marketplace purchase)

plus an honorable mention to Winter at Death's Hotel by Kenneth Cameron, but it was so creepy and violent I doubt if I'll ever read it again, and the short story collection A Stone Mountain Christmas.

30 November 2015

Books Completed Since November 1

book icon  A Gilded Grave, Shelley Freydont
In this first of Freydont's "Newport Gilded Age Mystery" stories, Deanna Randolph, her sister Adelaide, and her parents are in Newport for the summer social season of 1895. At the first party of the season, held at her father's partner in the sugar business, a housemaid is found outside, dead on the rocks below the Cliff Walk. While the gossips wonder if "poor Daisy" was involved in some type of scandal, the brother of Deanna's lady's maid Elspeth, Daisy's fiance, is arrested for the murder. Deanna and Elspeth, convinced of his innocence and fans of dime novels with female heroines, are determined to find out who really killed Daisy.

I'm ambivalent about this book. I like the characters—Deanna in particular comes off as an intelligent if more common society girl who cares about clothing and catching a husband than most of these Gilded Age mystery heroines, who are often "offbeat" for the time—and I enjoyed the mystery, which was very convoluted although the "bad guys" start to reveal themselves halfway through; you spend the rest of the book figuring out the "why." But although I enjoy Freydont's Celebration Bay mysteries, I didn't really enjoy her writing in this book. Modernisms crept in at odd times, Deanna is so familiar with her maid as if to be sisters with her, her best friend and former swain Joe Ballard is so ordinary he's bland, and Deanna says things in front of her father and others that no society girl would be caught dead saying in 1895. I'll probably buy the next one and see how the scandalous behavior of Joe's audacious French grandmother will rub off on Deanna now that she's staying with her.

book icon  The President's Daughter, Kimberly Brubaker Bradley
I picked this book on a whim out of a free book box at a fall gathering because you almost never see anything written about Ethel Roosevelt: her father, of course, and her parents together, and her brothers, and her audacious half-sister Alice, and even the other end of the family. To my surprise, it's the very believable story of Ethel from the moment her father finds out William McKinley has died and he has become President to the first few weeks in her new boarding school. She describes the tumult in the family upon moving to Washington, DC, and the shock of being sent to school after having had a governess for years and her difficulty in making friend, partially because the other girls are snobbish but partially because she has closed herself off from making friends because she wishes to be at home.

There are some fascinating details here that I've never read anywhere else, including in what bad shape the White House was when the Roosevelts moved in, and that—can you imagine the furor today if this happened?—the President's police force actually instructed Roosevelt's older children that when they went for a ride or walk with their father, if they saw anyone suspicious, they should actually push themselves between the potential assassin and their father because any assassin would be "after the President of the United States, not children." Wow! It's also a surprisingly nice view of Alice Roosevelt from Ethel's point of view, since Alice was known to be "right contentious" with everyone.

If you're a Teddy Roosevelt fan like me or a fan of the Progressive era and you see this book, give it a try. Very worthwhile!

book icon  Cro-Magnon: How the Ice Age Gave birth to the First Modern Humans, Brian Fagan
I was crazy for anthropology books as a teenager and constantly borrowed Silverberg's Morning of Mankind from the school library, so I'd been eyeing this book for ages when I finally found a remainder copy. In all I was happy to read about the archeological discoveries made since Silverberg wrote Mankind and enjoyed the photographs of stone age remains and paintings, but I found the text to be very repetitive. Fagan would tease us with a description of "how it might have been": Cro-Magnon tribes or individuals spying or even coming near their Neanderthal compatriots on the same hunting grounds, and then say "of course, this is all theoretical," and then do it again a chapter or two later! It made the book difficult to progress through—despite the author's beautiful descriptions of the landscape and the tribesmen—to the point where you would get to yet another "re-enactment" and sigh. Plus the drawings that are included to help us understand how Cro-Magnon tools were constructed are very vague. The legends and descriptions either point to figures which are not there or the drawing doesn't match what the legend states.

I feel guilty giving this book such a bad rating because I truly enjoyed the parts which brought me up-to-date on discoveries in the archaeological field since the 1970s when I became interested in the subject, and some of Fagan's descriptions are very evocative. I'll probably keep the book, but I think you should find it on remainder like I did, or take it out of the library.

book icon  Cannons at Dawn: The Second Diary of Abigail Jane Stewart, Kristiana Gregory
Let me be up front about this: I hated Winter of the Red Snow, Abigail's first "diary." It was pretty dull.

The sequel is much more interesting (with the biggest problem the awful "paintings" of the characters Scholastic is now putting on the covers; "Abigail" has perfectly plucked eyebrows and a flawless complexion and appears to be wearing lipstick). Soon after Mr. Stewart leaves to fight in the war, their home burns down, and the family movies to Philadelphia, but finds no place to stay. Except for the eldest girl, Elizabeth, who remains behind with her intended, who was wounded in battle, Abigail and her family become camp followers, marching behind the troops and providing laundry, sewing, and sometimes even food for them. Life on the road is full of hardships, from mosquitoes to sickness, but it's here Abigail meets the man she will marry, Willie Campbell.

Women and children as "camp followers" were a common feature of wars in those days. It is a part of history little spoken about unless you visit historical sites like Valley Forge. Gregory has written a good tale of how they lived, coped, and even triumphed. If you can suffer through the dullness of Red Snow, you will probably enjoy this portion of Abigail's tale much better.

book icon  Pledging Allegiance, Lawrence R. Samuel
This book sounds as if it should be a history of the Pledge of Allegiance (surely there's a book out there about it, isn't there?), but it's actually a fairly engrossing history of the bond drives during World War II. To raise money for the war effort in the first World War, the fundraising efforts were called "Liberty Loans" and some exquisite artwork came out of these efforts, but it was thought at the beginning of the second World War that the Liberty Loan drives were meant to appeal to only the wealthy or at least well-to-do. These new fundraisers wanted Americans to realize that the Nazi and Japanese regimes threatened everyone's way of life and attempted to sell war bonds to everyone, even children.

Therefore, one of the things they did was make war bonds available in small denominations. One didn't have to make an executive salary to buy one: the janitor, the dog-catcher, the factory worker could afford them. Children, who had less money than anyone, could buy war stamps to paste into a book that would eventually be worth enough to buy a war bond. War bonds were touted as perfect gifts: no wallets, toys, or expensive dresses!

The chapters I found most fascinating were the ones selling war bonds to African-Americans. The Liberty Loans had only concentrated on whites; War Bonds were for everyone. People of color treated as they were had no especial reason to support a war effort that excluded them on so many fronts: segregation, black men only recruited as orderlies or janitors, blatant prejudice. Yet the War Bond chairmen fought that they not be excluded from the war effort, and the results are impressive: people of minimal salaries sometimes gave more than white people with higher wages.

If this book has one problem, it's the quoting of too many statistics. It's at its best when it talks about the individual efforts of those who gave.

book icon  Re-read: Autumn, Susan Branch
Like all of Susan Branch's books, exquisitely decorated with her watercolor motifs of cozy things and seasonal icons, this is just a beautiful volume for anyone who loves the colors, the scents, the chill of autumn, autumn leaves, gingerbread, hot soup, warm cocoa, and the promise of a cozy winter. Mostly recipes, but also "things to do" lists, enumerations of savors, and, again, all that beautiful watercolor art.

book icon  Re-read: Thanksgiving: The Biography of an American Holiday, James W. Baker
Your typical Thanksgiving book for adults is a cookbook, whether of traditional foods or new twists, like using other ethnic foods for "spice." The book may also have tips on decorating: "tablescaping" and other ideas of how to set a pretty table. Let's say I hate cookbooks, unless they have something historical to offer, like The Little House Cookbook. Very few adult books ever talk about the holiday itself or its history. Those are mostly reserved for children, and run the gamut from the old "Pilgrims and the Indians" story—even though we have known for years now that most of our stories about "the first Thanksgiving" are myths created after the fact, many people still think that Pilgrims wore black and had hats and boots with buckles, that the feast they celebrated in 1621 was a "Thanksgiving," etc.—to stories about being generous and giving thanks. Baker's Biography is a very readable companion piece to Diana Appelbaum's Thanksgiving, but is an easier read without being simplistic. It also touches more on things like images, writings, and films about Thanksgiving, changes in menus in the intervening years, and parades and football games. The one thing that this book makes very clear is that the "iconic" autumn Thanksgiving imagery of Pilgrims and Indians only became emphasized at the very end of the 19th century and during the early decades of the 20th, back when the United States became flooded with non-English speaking immigrants whom the schools wished to impress upon some idea of the country's heritage. Previous to that it was simply a winter New England holiday which spread as New England residents moved westward, and involved reunions with family and friends. Even fictional short stories about Thanksgiving mostly emphasized reunions between estranged or long-parted relatives; Pilgrims and Indians were rarely to never mentioned.

I highly recommend this book for anyone who wants to read more about the history of the Thanksgiving holiday and its changing face over four centuries.

book icon  One Man's Meat, E.B. White
After reading The Essays of E.B. White, I had to purchase this other collection of White's essays, written between 1938 and 1943, after White and his family pulled up stakes from New York apartment life to a saltwater farm in Maine and first published in 1942 with ten fewer essays, starting with White talking about packing up his New York life. If you think there is culture shock today when moving from city to country or coast to coast, imagine it in an age when radio is the biggest thing in technology, going from a modern furnished city apartment to the country with no electricity, no central heat, and animals to care for. The seminal ideas that would later see light as Charlotte's Web can be found here, plus the juxtaposition of ordinary farm chores (sick animals, extricating oneself from the snow, obtaining enough wood to keep warm) against the upheavals of events in Europe, and finally war itself, where White finds himself cutting marsh hay one day, helping to conduct blackout drills the next.

I continued to be amused by the way White's pre-war commentary has parallels today, including a diatribe about television (as seen at the 1939 World's Fair) which sounds just like modern complaints about the internet! Plus ça change, plus c'est la même indeed! In each essay his gift for just the right word, just the right phrase is evident again and again, whether he's discussing the fragility of turkeys or the World's Fair or lambing season or a bond rally. Just paging through this book to recollect some of the essays makes me want to sit down right now and read it again. E.B. White was an American treasure. Find this book, or the Essays. You won't regret it.

book icon  Christmas book review in Holiday Harbour

31 October 2015

Books Completed Since October 1

book icon  The Complete Days, H.L. Mencken
My original review of the abridged version of this volume:
This amusing and nostalgic book is a collection of essays from three of journalist/"American Mercury" editor Mencken's autobiographical volumes, Happy Days, Newspaper Days, and Heathen Days. The first is a wry and often funny chronicle of his childhood, while the middle volume covers the obvious, and the final volume covers his adventures in the political world, music, and an incredible visit to Cuba during a revolution. Even in his childhood narrative the knife-edge Mencken wit manages to draw blood as he skewers schoolmasters and sentimental fiction (before discovering his favorite novel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn). Frankly, I enjoyed the heck out of it, and now want to find the omnibus edition that contains all three books in their entirety. For Mencken fans or those who want a non-sympathetic portrait of the sometimes not-so-"good-old-days."

(Warning: Mencken came from a different era. You may be uncomfortable at some of his offhand racism, but it's better to see how it existed than try to pretend it wasn't rampant in his society.)
This Library of America version not only contains the complete contents of all three books, but all his notes to the three different volumes, with photographs of his childhood home, friends, some of the personalities he talks about, etc. I particularly loved his chapters in Newspaper Days about how they got the newspaper published after a lethal fire roared through the city of Baltimore.


book icon  Theater Shoes, Noel Streatfeild
This is a companion piece to Streatfeild's Ballet Shoes, in which three orphans, after the disappearance of their father during the war and the death of their guardian grandfather, are sent to live with their mother's mother, a renown actress, who enrolls them in the same school that the Fossil sisters attended. None of the children are especially keen to go, as Mark has always planned to go into the Navy like his father and was looking forward to going to military school. The eldest, Sorrel, finds she has a talent for acting and the youngest, Holly, for dancing, just like her heroine, Posy Fossil, and Mark's talent for singing seems to point at a stage career for him as well.

It's a bit of a re-do of Ballet Shoes, with an imperious old woman instead of friendly Garnie, but BS fans will be happy to know that the Fossil sisters make guest appearances in letter form as inspiration for the three siblings. Pleasant, but nothing special like Ballet Shoes.

book icon  From Birdwomen to Skygirls: American Girls' Aviation Stories, Fred Erisman
This is a fascinating niche publication which talks about the early series novels for girls that involved them with aviation. As the series books of the early 20th centry usually stuck girls in conventional roles, even when they ventured afield as in The Motor Girls, books like The Flying Girl from the turn of the century (inspired by women aviators like Harriet Quimby), The Sky Girl and the Ruth Darrow books of the 1930s (inspired by Amelia Earhardt), and the Linda Carlton books of the 1940s all showed young women embracing the aviation challenge and making their mark on it despite male domination. Sadly, even after the actions of the WASPS and similar groups in World War II, girls' books went from women being pilots to women being stewardesses, a "more glamorous job" appealing to "young ladies" that thrust them again in a subservient position.

You can read many of these old aviation stories online and it's really sad to realize that role models for young women actually deteriorated as the century progressed rather than improved. If you are interesting in this history of children's literature, or the role of young women in children's literature, this is an enjoyable overview of those few series' books that did not have young women with their eyes on their "Mrs. degree."

book icon  Thoughts on The Thin Man, edited by Danny Reid
Okay, I admit it. I bought this book because someone I know online had an essay in it (it's the one about the Thin Man television series, which I got to watch in the early 1980s and I wish had been written more about, since I barely now remember it, except for the stars Peter Lawford and Phyllis Kirk and the fact that Jack Albertson was in it). After being disappointed at the two "new" Dashiell Hammett "novellas" that turned out to be script outlines, this published foray turned out to be much more pleasurable, even if six of the articles are recaps of the six films. There are two nice essays about stars William Powell and Myrna Loy, plus one about the director of the original film, a cracking good one about Nick and Nora as the ideal couple, a couple of drinking games to be played with the movies, essays about the music, Nick Jr, the other films Powell and Loy did together, and more. One of the most intriguing is a piece about the "Mrs. Asta" subplot in the sequel; since Nick and Nora were now about to be parents, the indiscriminate drinking and carousing in the first film would need to be toned down. So now the sexual jokes passed on to, of all things, the Charles' little terrier!

Probably for Thin Man film fans only.

book icon  The Golden Thread: The Story of Writing, Ewan Clayton
I have to admit, it took me a while to get through this book although I was fascinated by the idea of a history of writing. However, while this book briefly touches on Egyptian hieroglyphics and the Greek contributions to the alphabet, the bulk of the narrative is about the Latin alphabet and European writing. The author spends many pages talking about the minute changes to the Latin alphabet over the years, the creation of "small letters," the changeover from handwritten manuscripts in legible letters to the advent of print and the creation of different fonts. I'm a font nerd and after a while some of the detail made my eyes glaze over, but then some new concept would emerge and I would forge on. There's some fascinating discussion about inks, pen points and the angle of holding the point, the creation of fonts (it's a lot more than just drawing some letters), quills vs. steel pens, etc., but be advised this is a scholarly work, and pretty much Eurocentric. If you're looking for something on Sanskrit, the Arabic and Cyrillic alphabets, and Japanese and Chinese brush writing you'll have to look elsewhere.

book icon  Darkwalker, E.L. Tettensor
While Darkwalker's society resembles early 19th century England, the story is set in a completely different universe where our protagonist, Nicolas Lenoir, once a noted police investigator, has taken refuge in the small metropolitan area of Kennian, giving the minimum effort he can at his investigative job and ignoring the efforts of his not-yet-jaded subordinate. Some years earlier, Lenoir escaped the Darkwalker, a spirit who takes revenge on those who defile the dead, and the experience has permanently embittered him, so when several children are ripped from their graves, Lenoir knows he will have to confront the Darkwalker once more. But it may cost him his life and that of his faithful assistant Kody.

There are several parallels in Lenoir's society to our own, including the Adali, a group of foreigners to Lenoir's land who resemble gypsies. Indeed, the story sometimes seems as if it wants to be set on Earth, and then veers away when it gets too close. Lenoir is your typical tormented 21st century hero; his only close—and that's describing the relationship charitably!—friends appear to be his teenage snitch, Zach, who gets more than he bargains for when he helps Lenoir, and the languid, sexy Lady Zara, who conducts salons with the most desirable men and women in town. I enjoyed reading the book and solving the mystery of the missing children's bodies, but I didn't find anything particularly unique about the Lenoir character.

book icon  Two Hundred and Twenty Two Baker Streets, edited by David Thomas Moore
Collections of short stories commonly end up being middle-of-the-road, with some good stories, some bad ones, and some which are just okay. This collection, which offers up Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson in alternate personas throughout history and around the globe, is like that. You have him (in other guises) as a carny, a gentleman in the 1600s, an investigator living in South Africa, even in a land of fiction. One of my favorite stories has Holmes conjured up by a wizard to solve the disappearance of one of his fellow wizards in an Asian-flavored universe. Another story that I found amusing concerned a teenage girl who writes Sherlock/John fanfiction. On the other hand, the story of Sherlock and John living in the drug world of 1970s New York City left me cold. Some of the stories were just okay. Take a dip, but I'd do it at bargain book prices.

book icon  Re-Read: But Daddy!, Tom Buck
This was one of my favorite books in the Hugh B. Bain Junior High School library, one of the volumes I withdrew every summer when we were allowed to take ten books home. Books about large families or unique families seemed to be in abundance during the 1960s, and this was just one of them, about the hijinks of the Buck family: father Tom, a magazine editor, mother Pat, and ten children as the book starts (Adrian is born about halfway through the narrative). They're Irish Catholics who live in a small rural area in New Jersey, and as an Italian Catholic only child, I so enjoyed reading about the funny things that happened in a multi-child family, like little Ferry being forgotten on the potty chair or the bedlam that ensued when taking the kids shopping en masse, or getting them ready for Christmas Eve service, or even Tom's painful experience during the "Pop-O-Rama Jamboree." Plus I could relate to Sunday Mass, priests who didn't understand the realities of families, and other quirks of Catholicism.

Rinker Buck mentions this book in his own story, Flight of Passage, saying that it enjoyed quite a bit of popularity in its day. It's a bit of a jolt having thought of the family as so wonderful in my youth and then realizing that Kern, Rinker, and Nick had later issues with their father's insistence on perfectionism. But to me it's still as endearing and funny as ever, especially when I remember Ferry wailing "I'm ready!"

book icon  Flight of Passage, Rinker Buck
Having read Buck's Oregon Trail, I had to go back and find this highly-acclaimed earlier book in which he describes the adventure he had with his oldest brother, Kernahan. In 1966, he and Kern bought a Piper Cub, restored it during the winter, and then, with their father's permission, the two flew the plane alone from their New Jersey home to a relative's home in California.

At the time Kern was seventeen and Rinker was fifteen.

This is a big adventure about two boys on their own for the first time, completing a journey that most adults would be wary to accomplish, taking their cue from their father, a larger-than-life flyer and writer. Certainly it was nothing I would ever tackle, even now. As they skipped from airfield to airfield, adults came to rib them, but they made fast friends as well.

Like Buck's previous book, there is a lot of salty language in this story, and it may offend people more due to the age of the protagonists. Plus there's a chapter where they talk about "doping" the airplane (coating the wings with a protective coating made of highly volatile chemicals that made them high) and how their sister would come help them just because she enjoyed getting high. I've also read a couple of reviews that claim the aviation details are made up. But it's a grand adventure, if a bit sobering after reading Tom Buck's rollicking memoir and realizing these troubled kids are the same funny youngsters. I did enjoy it, though.

book icon  The Trouble With May Amelia, Jennifer Holm
In the sequel to Holm's Newbery Honor Book Our Only May Amelia, the feisty sole girl in the Jackson family faces new challenges. It's 1900, and the family is still struggling to support themselves farming on the Nasel River in Washington State. May Amelia is somehow always in trouble, whether she burns the breakfast or washes out the sourdough starter jar, and she's continually thwarted by her seven brothers, who do nothing but tease her. But then a man arrives in the community saying that the railroad will be coming through the Jackson farm. May Amelia translates for her father that this is a great opportunity and he decides to risk mortgaging the farm to buy shares in the new railroad.

The engaging May Amelia still struggles with her family and her place in the world as her story continues. While several incidents are funny and engaging, like the childrens' effort to keep their teacher from being married, the book is also full of sad incidents including the arrival of two cousins from Finland, the injury of an uncle, and other sobering facts of pioneer life. It is to May Amelia's credit that she can keep her chin up even through disaster and the scorn of her own family.

I loved seeing May Amelia again, but there were times I wanted to thwack her father and several of her brothers down the Nasel River.

book icon  New England Notebook, Ted Reinstein
One of WCVB Boston's longest-running local television shows is Chronicle, a slice-of-life delight in which host Reinstein visits unique places and speaks with unique persons in the six New England states. There's the story of Polly's Pancakes in New Hampshire, Paul Revere's expense sheet for his famous ride, the United States' smallest state capital Montpelier (where you can stick your head in the mayor's office and find him making photocopies), clam chowder and that most New England of restaurants, the diner, Boston's newest attraction, the Greenway, and more tales from the nooks and crannies of the stony Northeast. For New England fans and travel junkies, with lovely color photographs and a different slant from most travel books.

book icon  Trick or Deceit, Shelley Freydont
It's Hallowe'en time at Celebration Bay, a small community that has rebuilt its moribund economy by becoming a town of seasonal festivals. A haunted house contest is in progress, and part of the proceeds will fund a badly-needed community center. Town festival runner Liv Montgomery is also hoping that she can get a grant for the center from a philanthropic acquaintance she knew in New York City. But then the winner of the haunted house contest has his display trashed, and in the mess found scattered in the vacant lot next door, the body of one of the judges is found. Next thing she knows, Liv, her assistant Ted, the infuriating editor of the local newspaper Chaz, and the local sheriff are all involved in another murder case.

The big trouble with this one is that, despite misdirection, you'll spot the murderer early on, otherwise there's a lot of Hallowe'eny goodness going on in Celebration Bay: a witch and her coven have taken over one of the stores on the square, a religious extremist is protesting the celebration, the haunted house finalists are at each other's throats, and, as always, Chaz is being his annoying self. I'm still waiting for Freydont to reveal the mysteries of Ted, who puts on a startling performance at a town council meeting. Plus there's a whiff of romantic interest for Liv. Red herrings don't save the mystery, but it's still a fun Fright Night in a series I really enjoy.